


Saturday Night

by CrazyCait



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17628989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyCait/pseuds/CrazyCait
Summary: Another Saturday Night with the VFDers involving copious amounts of drunkenness, when Beatrice's plan to embarrass her friend backfires and leaves her wondering if Never Have I Ever was really such a great idea after all.... and whether it all might just end in the Hat Trick she REALLY didn't want happening under her roof. well, it didn't start off as THAT kind of party... but here we are....





	Saturday Night

**Author's Note:**

> warning: THIS FIC IS ABSOLUTE GARBAGE. This whole thing was born out of a ridiculous conversation I had with two very lovely and ridiculous friends about Olaf being a bit of a hoe back in the the good ole' days, not to mention how livid Bea would be when confronted by how many of her friends had slept with him.... YES I totally went a little insane here, and YES I have COMPLETELY thrown out any kind of real and canon timelines here... I know, I'm aware... this whole fic is just... basically fluffy, spicy fan service trash... also sorry Bea is such a .. B? full disclosure I can't stand her so; she's a bitch in my fics? ...... and yepp there are some super off the wall pairings here.... there is just... a lot going on here... 
> 
> TLDR; Olaf is the VFD bicycle and Bea can't deal. It's crack, don't take it seriously! 
> 
> Also cheers to Christina and Ariane for inspiring this mania and constantly spazzing out with me; love you girls!

It had become something of a tradition at this point; a tradition more or less accidentally born one very late night after the conclusion of a mission; an incredibly complex one; with a multitude of facets and operations; all of which required incredibly careful, and in many cases simultaneous execution. For many of them; this truly had felt like the mission on which they had truly cut their teeth as fully fledged members of VFD. It had been touch and go there for quite some time; but in the end they’d managed it, pulled it off incredibly successfully as a matter of fact. Something which none of them could argue deserved quite the celebration! Beatrice had insisted on hosting; because of course she had; Kit had turned up with enough delicious snacks to satisfy a small town. Olaf had provided a similar amount of cheap wine. Esmé had shown up with the _really good_ liquor (whatever top shelf brand happened to be In that week). Jacques had volunteered to pick up pizzas en route. Lemony had turned up with a bottle of something so obscure that none of them had even heard of it (though it too was gone come the end of the night) Jacquelyn had appeared with a bottle of liquor with a proof so high the rest of them weren’t quite sure it was legal; but nobody was complaining.... Georgina turned up utterly empty handed, but unsurprisingly ready to be the life of the party.

And thus a tradition was born! As the years past, their little group waxed and waned;  but the core of it always remained the same. After every major mission or operation; they would all gather at the Baudelaire mansion; as it was now christened following Beatrice and Bertrands’ wedding --- something which had caused many an eye roll among their comrades; though of course never where either would see. Somewhere along the way The Anwhistles  and Monty had started dropping in every now and again; though the odd kind of chemistry that seemed to exist between the slightly younger group somewhat confused both Josephine and Ike; and Monty was really loathe to spend a night too far away from his precious reptiles. Georgina had even taken to dragging Gustav along with her as a kind of arm candy …. Not that he ever seemed to mind. Jacques had invited Olivia once and the entire rest of the party had insisted that she “Please always come to our parties; she’s hilarious ….Jacques don’t you dare show up without her ever again.” …… Esmé had even allowed poor little Jerome (who always seemed to have the air of a very attached little puppy)  to trail after her once or twice when she was feeling particularly petty and in the mood to make ….someone…. jealous.

It was on one such occasion; several hours of drinking and laughter in, when Beatrice, who was reclining against her husband’s legs as she stretched herself out in front of the enormous fire place in the parlor; suddenly sat straight up right. Clapping her hands together and causing Kit, who had been curled up in the armchair nearest to Beatrice;  to jump ever so slightly, and bringing her out of a rather dreamy reverie. Following Kit’s gaze; a rather mischievous smile slid across Beatrice’s face.

“I know!” she exclaimed with an absolutely delighted little chuckle as she fixed Kit with a rather pointed look. “Why don’t we all play a little game!” Kit, recognizing that tone of voice immediately, suddenly snapped her attention to Beatrice, meeting her gaze with a wary look.

“Bea --” Kit began to respond but Esmé’s voice came drifting from the other side of the room before she had a chance to say anything else .

“What sort of game?” Esmé replied, arching an eyebrow as she stretched out across the chez lounge that had been pulled away from the wall and closer to the little coffee table by the fire around which they had all gathered

“Hmmmm…” Beatrice mused playfully as she pretended to wrack her brain for an appropriate party game --- something which fooled absolutely no one; and elicited a simultaneous eye roll from both Esmé and Jacquelyn. “Never Have I Ever?” Bea offered with such feigned kind of innocence, Esmé narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Lemony; on the other hand, who had been surprisingly quiet for the past few minutes suddenly seemed to realize that it was Beatrice who was speaking and immediately perked up.

“Yes! I love that game! Brilliant idea Beatrice!” He said fixing her with an adoring gaze and a warm smile, which she returned. Esmé glanced in Kit’s direction, meeting her eyes and quickly feigning a little gagging motion before anyone noticed. Kit couldn’t help but chuckle and nod emphatically in agreement, before her eyes almost involuntarily drifted back to the man reclining in the winged armchair situated between Kit’s own cozy armchair and Esmé’s chez lounge. She caught Esmé’s gaze slide in the same direction from the corner of her eye and could have sworn she saw her friend physically swallow as she caught sight of him. It was fully unfair how good he looked; legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles; he looked so effortlessly gorgeous. Olaf sipped lazily at the glass of wine he was currently nursing; a bemused little smile playing across his lips as he watched the conversation playing out among them. Shaking off the effect that the mere sight of him seemed to have on her; Esmé forced her attention back to the discussion at hand.

After a few more minutes’ conversation to which nobody really paid much attention Bea settled on the game she had initially recommended and fixed Kit with with an entirely too self satisfied little smile. Glancing round their little party; Esmé noticed Kit’s face blanche slightly as she chewed anxiously at her bottom lip before downing more or less the entirety of her drink in one go… which was a decidedly un-Kit-like thing to do. Jacquelyn too had become incredibly stiff and appeared to be focusing very intently on the drink in her hand. Esmé could practically feel the tension radiating off of her from her spot seated on the floor, her back propped up against the leg of the chez lounge. Prodding her back with the pointed toe of her shoe, Jacquelyn jumped slightly and looked round at Esmé, who shot her a slightly confused look. Jacquelyn’s only response however was to pour herself another drink. Esmé herself  was of course, hardly bothered by their choice of little game… she had never been one to have qualms about oversharing; but something in Beatrice's exceedingly pretentious tone of voice; and the sudden change in body language between not one but two of her best friends was enough to prompt some kind of intervention.

“Right!” Esmé said, clapping her hands together too, as she kicked her feet off of the chez and sat up straight “ **_This_ **, calls for shots.” It wasn’t the best of interventions to be sure but it was the only thing she could think of, and if nothing else it was sure to ease at least some of the tension. There was a general round of laughter and agreement, and Georgina somehow managed to produce shot glasses incredibly quickly from… well, no one really knew where. The glasses were collected at the center of the little table and Esmé snatched up Jacquelyn’s customary bottle of 160 proof liquor, to pour out shots for the entire group.

“Alright! Now we’re talking!” Olaf chuckled as he sat up in his chair, setting his now nearly empty wine glass aside and rubbing his hands together eagerly as Esmé handed him a shot. Lemony took two, offering one to Beatrice; which she eyed distastefully for a moment before quickly handing it off to her husband who shrugged, and downed the shot. Oliva and Jacques chuckled and clinked their glasses together and Georgina and Gustav were attempting some kind of weird method of drinking their shots which involved intertwining their arms and ultimately just ended in a bout of uproarious laughter from the both of them. Jacquelyn, however, had grabbed her shot from the table almost before Esmé had finished pouring it.

“Gimme!” said Kit almost a quickly and snatched her own glass from the table, downed it, and then grabbed the bottle to pour herself another.

“Whoa there darling!” Esmé leaned over to pull the bottle from Kit’s hand after she had downed her second shot in under a minute, and thrust it back towards Jacquelyn, who jumped slightly but accepted the bottle with a little shrug. “No need to drown yourself yet! No one has even said anything embarrassing…”

“Yet.” Kit grumbled, barely audibly.  

“You know dear…” Beatrice chimed in fixing the both of them with an unbearably saccharine, little smile “....if you don’t do embarrassing things, you won’t have anything embarrassing to confess!.”  utterly confused Esmé glanced from Bea to Kit and back again.

“C’mon Bea..” Kit replied, clearly quite unamused.

“I’m making a point, Kit!” Beatrice shot back. Kit rolled her eyes.

“Beatrice what are you on about ---” Esmé began but Bea cut her off before she could get the question out properly, clearly with no intention of explaining herself.

“Right then!” Beatrice said, smoothing out her skirt as he settled herself into a more comfortable position in front of the fire “I’ll start then, shall I?”  There was a murmur of assent.

Olaf held out a hand, gesturing for her to get on with it…

Esmé shrugged.

Jacquelyn poured another shot.  

Kit groaned.

“....Never Have **_I_ ** ever …..  Had sex with Olaf.”

“ Hey! …. What!?!” Olaf retorted throwing up his hands in what was only half false indignation.

Beatrice's smug smile fell squarely on Kit as she arched an expectant eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. Kit took a valiant gulp of her drink, and buried her face in her hands. But she was far from the only person in the room to take a drink, a fact which relatively quickly wiped that smile from Beatrice’s lips. It was Jacquelyn’s scathing glance shot in Olaf’s direction as she raised her glass to her lips to take a swift drink that managed to elicit an audible “What!?” on Beatrice’s part, and the hint of a self satisfied smile on Olaf’s. Esmé laughed out loud. So that was it, was it? Straightening up as though she had just been declared some kind of royalty, she proudly raised her glass in a kind of toast; and, shooting Olaf a quick little wink, which he returned with one of his own and a delighted little smirk; she took her drink. Georgina was laughing too as she shook her head and took a gulp of her drink; but when she caught sight of Gustav doing the same she promptly choked on her liquor and fell into a momentary fit of coughing, which eventually dissolved back into laughter. The mortified look on Beatrice’s face as Gustav shrugged and took his drink was priceless, her jaw appeared to have actually unhinged itself when her mouth fell open in absolute indignation. “What is wrong with… all of you?”

“Hey!!” Olaf said again still feigning offence though clearly far too pleased, both with himself and the horror evident on Bea’s face, to be truly insulted.

Glancing around the room both Jacques and Olivia’s eyebrows shot up, though both of their drinks remained untouched. Bertrand even let out a soft chuckle, which he expertly transformed into a cough when Beatrice promptly hit him in the shin. Losing the last of her composure, Esmé fell into another fit of giggles, and took another drink… just for good measure.

Kit watched the general response of the room through her fingers, but eventually managed to peak out from behind her hands. And though still quite pink and still looking thoroughly embarrassed, she was at least smiling. She glanced over at Olaf, who met her gaze with a warm, almost apologetic smile. Kit returned his gentle smile with one of her own. Shaking her head, she tentatively joined in the laughter as she reached for the nearest bottle of liquor, foregoing the shot glass and taking a swig directly from the bottle before passing it off.

A few more rounds of questions and drinks in, and Beatrice, who despite being, if not quite sober, definitely the most in control of her faculties in the room …. was still sputtering in contempt at the lot of them. It was a statement regarding  something particularly depraved in a hot tub; which at least two of their company confirmed with a sip of their drinks that finally seemed to push her over her disgust threshold

“You’re all. Terrible, really terrible people.”

“Oh shove it, Bea!” Kit shot back, clearly having reached her tipping point beyond which her inhibitions were all but nonexistent. Esmé whooped in approval and she and Olaf both applauded the sentiment. Beatrice pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest, but sat back on her heels, evidently content for the moment to reserve any more snide comments for the time being. She was, however, the only one who appeared unamused; even Jacques and Oliva were chuckling quietly as they shot very poorly disguised glances at one another.

“Oh just get a room the pair of you!” Georgina chuckled teasingly at the two of them. Her words were met with good natured laughter from around the room, and a slightly pink flush creeping up Olivia’s cheeks as she glanced at Jacques yet again.

Struck with a sudden idea  Olaf drained the last of the bottle of wine which he had  polished off more or less entirely on his own. Sitting up a little in his chair, his eyes momentarily fixed on the bottle, a little smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. Leaning forward he slammed the bottle down on the table with a remarkably loud thud; which caused several of the others lounging around the little table to jump slightly.

“Alright, Alright --- Time for a real game --- unless you’re all just talk.”  he said with a delightfully wicked little grin as he looked around the circle; and then, placing one finger on top of the bottle he tipped it over onto its side and with a flick of his wrist set it spinning.


End file.
